


war of hearts

by youarenotmybus



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: F/M, Forbidden Love, Friends to Lovers, Grief/Mourning, Past Relationship(s), Season/Series 05
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:48:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25026457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youarenotmybus/pseuds/youarenotmybus
Summary: Set during season five, episode eight. An account of what I like to think happened after Tom said "we have our memories, you and I."
Relationships: Tom Branson & Mary Crawley, Tom Branson/Mary Crawley
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	war of hearts

_“at last I have a plan,” tom says. his face is bathed in the gentle amber light of a nearby lamp. him and mary are tucked away in the drawing room, sharing a moment that will only exist in their memories._

_“start the work in the village, find the new agent and set off for america.” he’s sure this is the right thing to do. as much as he’s come to love downton, from its lavish carpets to its soaring ceilings, the memories linger on every surface like a permanent layer of dust. memories of watching his wife from afar in the days before they knew what it was to love each other. recollections of stealing glances and kisses, hearts hammering and breath catching._

_and the bitterest of them all: watching his wife fade away from him, second by second, until her vibrant soul no longer lingered among them. it had drifted to a far better place. at least, that’s what he told himself every night when the other side of the bed was unbearably cold._

_it was time to leave the past behind, for as much as he loved his newfound family, he knew there was something different on the horizon for him. he only had to be brave enough to chase it._

_“but won’t all that take months?” mary asks, drawing tom from his thoughts._

_he can’t help but give in to the soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips. that’s his mary, practical and forward thinking as ever._

_“why don’t we say i’ll stay for christmas and then go?” he suggests. the notion of one more christmas with the family fills the hollowness in his chest with a pleasant warmth. one more holiday spent gathered together, exchanging gifts and laughter, conversation flowing like water as everyone babbles over each other._

_“it’s a dagger in my heart,” mary says. tom sees the pain glinting in her dark eyes. he doesn’t miss the trembling in her chin, either. he doesn’t miss much when it comes to mary. he’s always been able to see the cracks in her armor when no one else can._

_“i don’t know what i’ll do without you,” she continues, looking down at her gloved hands. tom’s gaze trails from her lowered eyelashes down her high, sharp nose and onto her rosebud mouth. he wants to memorize every detail of her face and tuck them in his back pocket for safe keeping. the elegant contours of her face, the cut of her jaw, the inward curve of her onyx hair. the graceful slope of her neck and shoulders. he prays to god he won’t forget any of these things._

_“did you ever think you’d say that when i drove you to your fittings with madame swann in ripon?” he asks. this elicits a chuckle from them both. it’s difficult to remember a time in their life when they couldn’t read each other’s minds with a simple look. it seems a lifetime ago now, mary whisking sybil away the night they’d planned to elope. he remembers the disapproval in her gaze, and the way it only fueled his contempt for her. that was when they were both capable of feeling things so severely. the years, as well as loss, has mellowed them both._

_“and sybil got to make her evening pajamas and granny almost fainted,” mary laughs. tom does too. he’ll never forget the shocked expressions on everyone’s faces as they took in the sight of sybil in her brilliant blue. then he’d only been the chauffer, watching from the window. never in a million years could that chauffer have dreamt he wouldn’t always be looking from the outside in._

_“we have our memories, you and i,” he remarks fondly. and it’s true. there is a wealth of memories between them, a treasure trove of boundless joy, harrowing sorrow, and everything in between._

_mary looks up and meet his stare. he is startled by the intensity he finds in her gaze. her eyes are the night sky, and inside them are stars created by the light’s reflection._

_“but now you’ll take them away with you to boston,” she says, her words tinged with melancholy. in that moment he realizes just how deeply his absence will wound mary. she’s already lost the two people in this world she cherished the most, and now he’s leaving too. perhaps not in the same way, but he is leaving nonetheless._

_not many people find their way into mary crawley’s closely guarded heart. tom was honored more than words could express that he made the cut._

_“and i’ll cherish them when i get there,” he says. and he means it. he means it more than almost any other words he’s ever spoken. his memories of mary could keep him warm when there is no relief from the cold, and they could shelter him when there’s no other home to speak of._

_if only he could tell his younger self how much that wealthy socialite with her nose in the air would mean to him someday. how he would come to love and admire her with everything in him. how everytime they were together his heart would beat for her with reverence and awe._

_his past self could’ve never believed such a thing. yet here is, living it._

_“you know i love you, tom,” mary says._

_he does know. he knows that mary does not love with reckless abandon, but that when she does love it is fierce and endless._

_“i love you too,” he replies, reaching for her hand. the satin of her glove is cool against the heat of his palm._

_“no, tom,” she counters, placing her other hand against his face. “you don’t understand.”_

_he furrows his brow, ready to ask what she means. but before he can do so, he feels mary’s mouth against his, her lips urging and insistent. he instantly knows he should pull away, but her kiss muddles any rational thought until all he knows is the sensation of her mouth on his. there is nothing besides this room, this moment, this kiss._

_there is no boston, beckoning to him from afar. there are only mary’s hands meeting behind his neck, her fingers interlacing against his hair. there is only the curve of her waist in his grasp._

_and when they finally break apart for air, there are only mary’s midnight eyes, flickering from his own down to his mouth and back up again. he feels her breath against his lips, and he can’t stand another second apart. how he went his entire life without knowing the kiss of mary crawley he’ll never know._

_this time he is the one to close the distance, coaxing her lips open with tenderness. their kissing becomes less frenzied as they take their time, learning each curve and divet of the other person’s mouth._

_mary tastes like champagne, intoxicating and addictive. but even the most powerful liquor cannot keep tom’s stabs of regret at bay for long._

_“oh god,” he says, breaking away at last. the world, previously hazy at the edges, suddenly comes into focus. “what have we done?”_

_in mary’s eyes he sees the same remorse that he feels blooming in his ribcage and spreading through his stomach. this—whatever this is—is a mistake. it’s a betrayal, and they both know it._

_“we are never to speak of this,” mary breathes. tom agrees, nodding his head solemnly. in that moment they both know this evening is something they’ll take to the grave._

_later that night, as tom lies in bed, he knows he made the right decision in moving to boston. he can’t stay here any longer than christmas without giving himself to mary completely and tarnishing sybil’s memory beyond repair. if he can’t trust himself when he’s around her, he has to leave._

_the only thing that can keep him from his desire for the spellbinding lady mary is to put the atlantic ocean between them, and so he shall. ___


End file.
